


Displayed

by blakefancier



Series: For Your Entertainment [12]
Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard is back at work, but he still has things he needs to work through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Displayed

**Author's Note:**

> If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands! *clap clap* If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands! *clap clap*
> 
> I am embarking on another complicated sub!Howard universe. My brain, she hates me.

Howard feels undressed without a tie and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. But Steve wants everyone to see the marks on Howard's neck, as blatant as any collar could be. It leaves Howard feeling uneasy and just a bit aroused.

The news will get to his father and either Steve will protect Howard or he won't. It's too late to worry about it now. 

So he doesn't. He sits at his worktable in the lab, trying not to fidget—he's sore—and doing a damn poor job of it. No one said a word about yesterday's absence, not even Colonel Phillips, but their eyes linger on the love bites on his throat and Steve's tags. A part of him wants to button his shirt and put on a tie, maybe a part of him always will, but he doesn't. He had his chance to object and he didn't.

The door behind him opens and he tenses until he hears the clacking sound of Peggy's heels on the floor. When she reaches the worktable, she leans against it. He thinks about how easy it would be if he loved her, or even wanted her. And suddenly he blushes hot with the shame of it.

"How can I help you, Agent Carter?" he says, carefully unscrewing the housing on the electrical box.

"You didn't keep his attention for very long." She doesn't say it unkindly, but it stings all the same. 

He looks up at her, his jaw clenched, and fights back the hurtful words that come to him. Instead, he says, "We both have responsibilities."

"You're right, I apologize." She looks at his throat, her gaze lingering, and he struggles with the urge to cover himself. "He didn't collar you."

Howard touches Steve's tags. "No." At least not the way she means.

Peggy rolls her eyes. "Americans. If we weren't at war, Falsworth and I would make sure you had a proper collaring, ceremony and all."

He fights back a hint of irritation, because he's not some goddamn country bumpkin. "I can pay for my own ceremony."

"You should," she says softly, touching his cheek with gentle fingers, and the irritation dissipates. "When you get home, you should have a ceremony with all the trappings and then throw the most lavish party New York has ever seen." 

"Maybe." He shrugs and glances down at his hands. "I don't know if Steve would like that, though." He doesn't know if he would like it. It's one thing to kneel at Steve's feet when they're alone, to allow themselves this when they're thousands of miles away from home. It's another to kneel at Steve's feet in front of family and Elite society and expose everything to their unkind scrutiny. 

"He would if it would make you happy," Peggy says, pulling him from his thoughts.

"I know." And he does. It makes him feel hot and tight all over, like his skin doesn't quite fit anymore.

"Biological imperative." She taps his hand with her finger.

He glances up at her and frowns. "What do you mean by that?"

"You need to make him proud and he needs to make you happy. I told you, you Americans have it wrong. We built our society because we needed to, not because we wanted to. That's a fairytale you tell yourselves, that it's your choice, that you could be different. An individual."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he snaps. "Believing that I have no choice in this? That I'm trapped by my own body's needs?" He gets to his feet because he can't hold still any longer. "How the hell is that supposed to be better?" 

"You don't have to feel guilty. It's not your fault." 

"But it's not my choice either, is it? Steve isn’t my choice." And he's angry, so furious. He gestures expansively, his breath coming in desperate sobs. "Well, maybe I want the choice, even if the fault comes with it!" He grabs his tags and holds them up. "This should be a choice, Peggy. This should be my choice! And his."

"Howard," she says, gently, "please, calm down."

"No." He shakes his head. "I won't." When she reaches out to touch him, he stumbles away and before she can say anything, he flees.

*****

An hour later, Steve finds him in a supply closet. Howard is sitting on the floor, staring at his hands. He doesn't bother looking up when Steve enters. Steve doesn't say anything, just sits next to him, and waits. 

"I'll apologize to her," he whispers finally and Steve leans into him.

"You don't have to, Howard. I told her this was none of her business, but she—" Steve makes a frustrated noise. "She worries about you, I guess I can't fault her that."

Howard doesn't know what to say about that, so he doesn’t say anything.

"Are you uncomfortable like this?" Steve asks, gently stroking his finger against Howard's throat.

He swallows hard. "Yes."

"Do you want to button up and put on a tie?" Steve keeps touching his throat and Howard lifts his chin and shivers.

"Yes," he says softly because that's all he's been thinking about all morning, that and the aching emptiness of his body.

Steve reaches into his pocket, pulls out one of Howard's ties, and holds it out. 

Howard doesn’t take it, doesn't even reach out his hand to try. Instead he leans his head on Steve's shoulder and closes his eyes.

Steve lets out an amused huff and runs his hand through Howard's hair. "Do you want a collar?"

"No… yes." His face grows hot and he grimaces. "Not for every day, but… but I'd wear it for you when we're alone or with people you trust."

"Alright." Steve presses a kiss to his hair. "I want to show you off a bit, to Peggy and Falsworth. Show them that our way works."

No, no, no, no, no. 

"Easy, easy, Howard." Steve hugs him tightly and rubs his back. "What's your safeword?"

"Stall," he says and presses his face against Steve's neck.

"Do you need to use it?"

He shakes his head because he doesn't know. He doesn't know if he wants to use it or not. He doesn't want them to see him like this, it's private. But he wants Steve to be proud of him. He wants everyone to be jealous of him because he has Steve and they don't. They never will. He takes a deep breath. "No. No, I… I don't need it, sir." 

"Good," Steve says, his voice thick with approval. "Oh, Howard, I'm so proud of you."

Howard moans and clutches Steve's shirt as pleasure suffuses his body. It shouldn't feel so good to hear those words, but it does. God, it does.

"We'll talk more about tonight, okay?" Steve strokes along his back and kisses his ear. "We'll come up with some rules so when you're ready, you'll feel comfortable."

Safe.


End file.
